Sterile
by Tigerdust
Summary: The Doctor thought it was safer in a library than a jungle. John would never know how wrong he really was. Second in the John Tripp Trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

He tossed and turned in his sleep. There were few times he didn't, but normally a dream wouldn't cause tossing and turning. He could faintly hear Andie's growling and muffled barking trying to wake him, sensing his own distress. But nothing could dissuade him, could find him in reality. The sound of fire and steel, burning flesh and crazed desire jumbled in mass hysteria. His brain was lit with pain and he moaned, teeth bared. His eyes popped open with a flash. That couldn't be the future, he hoped. Surely was just reliving the life he had left with Tenaya.

He gave Andie a pat on the head in thanks as he headed to the bathroom, fur at his heels. John looked in the mirror at his dark-rimmed eyes. He hadn't slept properly in the week they'd returned to the TARDIS. Someone who had never been confined before being turned into a slave? He supposed it was justified to feel or to worry, maybe even to hurt a bit. But it had been his own fault for not following the Doctor a bit more closely. John wondered if they had track meets on Gallifrey.

The water dripped down his face and fingertips, small bits wandering down his pajama bottoms. John filled a coffee mug with cold tap water and closed his eyes while he inhaled. The water shocked his throat and he began to realize that the grumbling he was hearing was not Andie's stomach but his own. Andie's bowl needed filling, John looked down briefly before grabbing the silver disc and setting it on the bed as he rooted around for a sweater or a top of some sort. He found an old college shirt in one of the drawers, faded lettering of a blood drive, and moved toward his bedroom door.

Andie followed as he passed down a silent corridor of the TARDIS. The walls were a shade of pale yellow and each door seemed to exotic. John didn't dare open any of them. Each step produced a further grumble in his stomach. He came across the kitchen and one very unexpected sight.

"I thought you said you didn't get hungry."

The Doctor turned, a piece of bread hanging from his jaws.

"You should be resting." The Doctor mumbled slightly after consuming the bread. "And I never said I didn't eat, just that I didn't get hungry. I only need to eat once, maybe twice a day. My internal metabolism is a complicated system. Although the Nevarmatods of Rhodolite Eight would disagree. After all, all they have to do is eat a bar of chocolate once a month. But daft is what they turn out to be. I mean, when all you've got is cocoa powder and sugar and milk in your system, mind you it's a little more extreme for them then a Mars Bar. That's one thing I never understood; you humans and your silly infatuation for junk food. I mean, chocolate is well enough every once in a while, but some of you ate it every day. Wouldn't that get tiresome, a diet with no variety?"

John waved his hands around a bit, slightly amused. "Guilty as charged, I suppose. I was just here getting Andie some more dog food." The Doctor pointed involuntarily at a lower cupboard, surprised by his own action in knowing exactly where the dog food was. As Andie chowed down in proud Tripp fashion, John patted his head again to an appreciative woof and stood, facing the Doctor.

"So, you'll admit you're hungry then?" John arched his eyebrow.

"I never said I didn't get hungry, I just said not often."

"Well, if it's not often, let's make sure that we make it an occasion to remember." John washed his hands in the sink and the Doctor moved back with mild interest.

"If I remember correctly, you ran a bakery amongst several ventures?"

John shrugged as he moved a bowl out of a cabinet and set it down on the marble island in the middle of the stainless steel and wood kitchen. He ignored the fact that he'd never actually told the Doctor that, although Lilly and David had seemed incredibly aware of his past ventures, failed and executed. "I can make you a brownie if you'd like. But considering the late hour," John stopped himself slightly and smiled, amused, " or the early hour, maybe you'd like something else."

"Not much a sweet tooth, mate. And it's not really late or early. You humans and your linear concept of time. Only the Chinese really understood, well, as best as you humans can. They had a circular view of time, although it was tied to the emperors, who they bowed down to more often that not. I never understood that human need for bowing and subjugation. Oh well, there was just that one time with that one mistaken Time Lord."

John's whisk fell to the floor and his voice cracked a bit. "Are you telling me one of the Chinese emperors was a Time Lord?!"

"Well, of course! You humans are too bloody thick to think of anything non-linear. Who else would have given you the idea?"

John mumbled something under his breath, concentrating on the marinade in front of him. "I love this TARDIS." He pulled a few parsley and oregano leaves from the pantry and added them into the mixture.

"One of a kind. Much like her inhabitants." John smiled, his whisk moving gracefully through the lemon-scented mixture. "I'm intrigued. What is it?"

"You'll see. A magician never reveals his secrets."

"That's just not true. You've got all those reality shows with magicians telling all sorts of secrets."

"It's just an expression." Sizzling could be heard behind John as he poured the sauce over the contents of the pan and then set himself to chopping potatoes and onion, the sharp thud of the knife slicing through the heart of the vegetables, going in time to his heartbeat.

He couldn't really hear the doctor's voice anymore. Inside John's head, a melody from somewhere long ago, something vaguely classical, played as he cooked. Each color was a note of the symphony. His face relaxed, but remained keen and steady. Each second passed with a stir or a chop, hands deft and rarely idol.

"...I said, is it almost bloody ready?!"

John shook his head, tuning back in on the Doctor. "What? Yes. Sorry. I get kind of absorbed into my work."

"I noticed."

John plated the cuisine on the stove and brought it over to the island, setting his cutting board in the sink.

"Here we are. Salmon patties on toast with sliced potato hash. Not bad for being on the fly."

The Doctor began to shovel it in as John examined the first few bites before eating at half his speed. He hoped he was enjoying whatever he was tasting. John smiled as he took the plate.

"Enjoyed that, I did. You have a future in the next Earth renaissance, if nothing else."

"While I appreciate that, I just hope my skills aren't extorted by aliens anytime soon."

"You've picked the wrong profession then."

John giggled as dropped the dishes into the sink and made a mental note to clean them later. He looked down at Andie as the Doctor excused himself for bed.

"Feeling alright Andie?"

There was a woof and a happy tail thump that accompanied the question and they headed back to their room. It was much easier going on the return trip until Andie raced forward and John struggled to keep up. John didn't like the looks of the door. It was too plain, meant to fit in. Vague cracks of a Red X stained it. But Andie kept barking.

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea. There's probably a reason there was a red X on the door, boy." Andie gave him a "why are you doubting me?" look. John rolled his eyes at being dressed down by his dog and turned the handle. The door lurched forward, creaking with age.

The room was silent, but the echoes of a past age relapsed again and again. Tables filled with charts and various bits of machinery remained in a state of limbo, as if people had been in a hurry to leave. The sketches were in indecipherable languages mixed with different diagrams and flow charts. John bit his lower lip; his sense of foreboding telling him to leave.

It was against the back wall that he saw it. He wasn't sure; the various parts were scattered around, but he knew it. The weapon of a Dalek lay dissected before him. Grim judgments had passed in this room. The fog of war clung to this place; a stench of victory and loss that the Doctor was haunted by. That everyone left had been haunted by.

Andie scratched at a far wall. John didn't want to go any farther, but Andie pushed through a secret compartment as it slid back, the wall of darkness enveloping the Irish setter mix. He grumbled as he pushed on further, pretty sure he didn't want to see the adjacent room.

John nearly tumbled over Andie, who had halted in respect. His mournful eyes vocalized what he could not. It was chilly in this place and John covered his own biceps, squeezing a bit of heat from them. An actual fog pervaded the room, hiding most of the floor, but John could tell they were overlooking something. A small set of stone stairs moved downward and John moved with them.

He bent on the clear grass and wiped a way a bit of fog from the stone. It was a grave marker. Exidian Thoriate. John had no idea who that was, but it must have meant something to the doctor. He moved forward. More unknown names. Rows upon rows of unknown names, some alien languages, others more Latin based but definitely not human.

Near the back of the room, he began to understand. Why have a graveyard beyond a War Room? For the purpose of mourning those who pass because there is nowhere else to grieve at. Were they generals in the Great Time War? Had they been happy or fierce, pleaded for mercy from Death? John shivered again. The Doctor was more sentimental than he'd let on. And if he was lonely, he was mourning here. He had to be.

John moved to leave, Andie at his side. He'd never be able to forget, but there was no way to bring this room to the Doctor's attention. So many questions haunted his mind that he didn't realize that they'd made it back to their room. The sight of Brad Pitt and Edward Norton jolted him back into reality and he tossed and turned for a few more hours.

"How about somewhere a bit more tame than an abandoned jungle."

"Like where?"

"How about Earth's largest library? The Third Renaissance?"

"Sounds brilliant."

"Atlantis City, Here we come!"


	2. Chapter 2

The Tardis landed with its usual aplomb. And the Doctor launched into a usual tirade after John mentioned that Atlantis City sounded quite a bit like Atlantic City, although he doubted any sort of renaissance could be had in New Jersey. Thus, the Doctor launched into an oration and it wasn't the subject matter that intrigued John, but the Doctor's knack for it and sub-plots. His hands moving wildly, John not listening to a word but nodding his head at the pauses, he finally realized the Doctor had stopped completely.

"...and that is the story of Atlantis, which is not Atlantic, as you so fondly put it."

"So, you are saying that their first king was really named Poseidon?"

"He was one for theatrics, he was."

"Do they worship multiple deities here?"

"Not unless things have greatly changed. They live for intellect and reason, not faith or charming morality, unless it's in tale form. I think you'll understand."

John gulped as he walked toward the door, remembering the last time he had done that very thing. He was more cautious and stepped quietly into a large wooden room. Although large may not have been a sufficient enough term.

John felt diminutive in this place, which was probably what was intended. Men are only small specks on the pages of history, it is said, but you could feel it in this place. There was a sense of a great tapestry and wealth being produced here. The grandness of one of the last Human empires, beloved and revered. Except for the occasional spot of dust, it showed too.

The Doctor himself did not talk as they walked. Great arching windows shed beams of light all around them. The room was made of sturdy oak that clicked underneath their feet. The walls were carved with cherubs and ivy, great reminiscent scenes of painters and master iron workers lay all around. The smell of oil from kerosene lamps on various large tables was the only scent, save for a bit of lemon from the wood polish.

John spent several hours just touching the spines of several classics so well-preserved. Books and characters he had loved and despised were all here, old friends winking and waving from pages of his personal history. Cracked scrolls in cases lay far above his head. It was slightly chilly in the Atlantis Library, but the goosebumps were not from the weather. Instead, seeing an original copy of the Analects brought tears to John's eyes. He thought about Bobby, an old pain, for the first time in several years and he smiled. Oh, to be young again.

The Doctor must have slipped away just briefly as John settled in, gladly amongst a mountain of classics. He was swept away to Tara right before the Civil War and just about to leave for a party at the Wilkes Estate when he was taken out of his reverie by two passing gentlemen wearing vests with gold pocket watch chains peeking and striking across their chests. They spoke of the flourish and of several art museums. John itched to see more; to check this classic out. He went in search of the Doctor.

"You didn't tell me there was more."

"Well, with all those books, one would think you'd be content to stay."

"I'm content to check this book out-even to ask the Tardis if she has a copy, but I never thought you'd turn down an adventure."

"You don't fancy losing track of me again, do you?"

"Would you prefer handcuffs?"

"Martha suggested that once. But it was directed towards Jack, I think."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"Pity. Wait, that doesn't sound right."

"Come on, then. I want to see more of the Third Renaissance of Man!"

The Doctor closed the human biology textbook he was reading with a start and dust flew around. John couldn't help but sneeze, sniffing briefly before rubbing his nose across his sleeve, goop free of course. There was a gasp, but John and the Doctor saw no one and so they pressed outside the library.

Atlantis City was stunning. Oak libraries mingled with great white theaters and floating skyscrapers that sparkled blue and seemed built out of sugar work. The sidewalks were bare and clean, not a car in sight. Trees and crystallized white lights sent a tiny glare into each shadow. It felt good to be alive.

"Don't look now, but I believe we're being followed."

John, naturally, turned his head backwards and three men with silver faces and long blue jumpsuits were indeed following them from a pace. They weren't sauntering, but they weren't chasing them down either.

"I said don't look, John! You're like a blooming toddler."

"Should we see what they want?"

"Look at their arm bands, I'm not sure I want to know." On the second turn, John saw it. The mark of a police shield lined a white arm band. John smiled nervously at the Doctor as a second pair began a walk towards them from afar.

"I'm not sure we'll have much of a choice, Doctor."

"Just let me do all the talking. Why, hello there!"

"Identification, please."

"I'm sorry. We're just out for a stroll."

"Identification please."

The Doctor checked his pockets, fingering his Sonic Screwdriver. "I'm sorry. I seem to have misplaced it."

John couldn't see any weaponry, but one of the men pulled something from his pocket and began reading. "Did you willfully sneeze in the Atlantis Library Three, Section Human Biology?"

"But there was dust..."

"Your arm identification please." John felt the tingle of cold fingers as his arm was stretched away from his body and a blue scanner lit through it. "He has no identification. Runaway. Mr. Maris will see to him."

"I'm afraid that won't be happening." The Doctor aimed his screwdriver at the hands holding John's arm and they recoiled at the burning sensation of the sonic waves. John found himself following the Doctor again, running from trash can to dumpster to tree like rabbits.

"How will we get back to the Tardis?" John remarked, panting.

"Don't worry about that, mate. Are you listening to me?"

John's eyes were transfixed on a spot beyond the dumpster. He saw four officers and they were surrounding this woman with blond hair and glasses. She looked guilty, carrying several loaves of bread in her arms. He could see the word runaway on the mouth of one of the guards. It wasn't right, such unfair odds.

"We have to help her Doctor."

"Why would we want to get involved?"

"There's your reason." He could see a second person, skinny with longish black hair, trying to distract the police soldiers.

"It's not our fight."

"But what if they haven't done anything wrong?"

"Why should wrong matter?"

John frowned as he stood up. "We have a duty."

"We have no duty! You can't leave the safety of this dumpster!"

"I'm going. I'll come back to the Tardis with them."

"Now hold on just a minute!"

"Those our your two options Doctor."

The Doctor sighed heavily, his eyes malcontent with emotion. "Fine. But you just run them out. Don't go too far. I don't want to show up with you in a loincloth again."

"I make no promises."

John snuck up behind the guards and tapped one on the shoulder. He made a fist and found the ring was very co-operative in making the defensive shell over his arm and hand. He used the power of the metal to break the jaw of one officer, sending him to the ground.

"Run." The woman nodded with silent gratitude and looked over at the skinny fellow. "Shit."

The element of surprise gone, and with the other guards now noticing John, the Doctor's beam came from behind the metal fist, knocking the other three to the ground. John went after the other group while the woman began wielding the bread like a knife, and then picking up stones when that didn't work.

Momentarily stunned, the other man began to pelt the police soldiers with a frozen turkey he was holding. The Doctor was now attracting attention, unable to set the screwdriver to a frequency to stun the guards. They were being surrounded.

The woman screamed out at them to run and John followed the pair, looking back to see the Doctor waving him away. He knew the Doctor could take care of himself, but he didn't want to be separated again. They'd meet back at the Tardis, he was sure of it. Actually, it was more of a prayer than anything.

They ran through an obstacle course of beautiful glass and clean sidewalk jungle. They moved in an erratic pattern, not bothering to talk just yet. It became clear to John that they had some sort of safe house. In the shadows of the giant blue spires, they began a descent through a steep train yard, the gravel crunching nervously under their feet. John thought of the Doctor and guilt welled up in his stomach.

They sat to rest in a converted boxcar on the edge of the quarry. The man began to rummage and lit a fire that cast shadows as the day edged to a close. The woman extended her hand.

"Thank you for helping us. You've done a greater service than you know." The gentleman excused himself, promising to return shortly.

"Why were you out if you knew you'd get caught?"

"There wasn't much of a choice about it. The older ones are getting sick and the younger ones too restless and carried away with their own projects. Our numbers dwindle each week. You must not be from around these parts."

"That obvious?"

"Only one of Lucinda's children would have come to our aide."

"Lucinda? Is that your name?"

She laughed, full and long with a sigh at the end. "You're serious. Then you really are from somewhere else."

"New Jersey."

"Where?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Well, firstly my name is Pip and the man with me is Dan. We're Lucinda's guardians for this cycle. Lucinda is our patron guider."

"Guider of what? Are you a cult?"

"No. We just refuse the mark, the identification."

"But I thought this was supposed to be the Third Renaissance?"

"We were well on our way towards it." The man re-entered the boxcar, his hands filled with bowls of stew. He smiled as he passed one onto the stranger. "If not for Maris Industries, we would have made it."

"I sense a story. Shall we settle in, then?"

They smiled at John as he reached for the man's hand in greeting. "I've been rude as well, my name is John Tripp and that other man was the Doctor. I'm his traveling companion at the moment."

"You've picked the wrong time to travel to Atlantis City. After dinner, you will see. It'll be dark soon."

They ate in silence, each inspecting the other foreign influence. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"You like it?"

"My compliments to the chef." Dan blushed in reply.

"Come, let us take a walk while our food digests." John followed Dan and Pip as they crossed parts of the quarry, various trash can fires beginning to pop up everywhere. There was a chill in the air finally and John felt more goosebumps, although they were not from the cold. Pip stopped in front of van bearing a graffiti portrait, glowing iridescent colors of a woman with a knotted ponytail and gray hair, her eyes downcast and her skin glowing white.

"This is Lucinda. She was the last great architect and painter before Maris Industries came and began making promises to protect us. Lucinda fought against the identification system. She fought against the horrors of produced creative labor. She fought for love for love's sake. And she perished brutally for it. We are her children. We take no mark. We produce when it befits us. We love what we do. We have blacksmiths, cooks, musicians, magicians, and priests of many faiths but we are few. It is only by her that we are bound, not in fear but love."

"Sounds pretty, sounds mystical."

"It is."

"You were someone then."

"I was the youngest head chef of a new wave of restaurants and Pip was a chemical researcher for the National Treatment Station. Then Maris Industries happened."

"Sounds like they were a curse."

"A curse that promised peace."


	3. Chapter 3

You would think sleeping inside a boxcar would be uncomfortable, but you would only be partially right. John woke up with a yawn and a stretch, casting a glance back down upon the small squadron of jackets he'd slept on. The night had been cool but not cold. Except for the fearful chill over the citizenry of Lucinda's village the place might have been downright hospitable.

The sun had been awake for at least an hour.

"Do people from your city sleep so much?" Pip teased John as he joined them for coffee in a spot overlooking most of the quarry.

"No. Just me. I haven't had a good night's sleep in ages."

"Atlantis air agrees with you."

"That it does."

"Probably because we're surrounded by water."

"So it really is an island then?"

Dan's eyes narrowed. "And what exactly do they teach you in New Jersey?"

"Only that people have a right to learn when they wish."

"It's refreshing to hear that Maris hasn't gotten his claws any farther."

"Have any of you actually seen Maris?"

"I shudder to think that we might someday."

"Why? I would think someone as intelligent as you would want to."

"It's not a matter of intelligence, although Lord knows I'd want to give him a piece of my mind. Rather, it's a matter of coming back from the meeting at all."

"People have a habit of disappearing around Mr. Maris."

"Sounds cryptic. I feel bad for all those children."

"Some are luckier than others. Some come as orphans and others have been born in this very quarry. They've never seen the beauty of the ocean or the grandeur of the spires. We don't take them out for fear we'd never return with them."

"You can see the fear in their very faces."

"Has anyone tried to distract them with a game?"

"No. Everyone at a certain age begins to use their talents for whatever work they need to." Pip looked down, John receiving a very guilty look.

"Then let me try. It's not going to be easy getting back to that library today anyways."

"You may never be able to get back."

John sighed. "I know. But I have faith in the Doctor."

"Faith is a good thing."

"And rare."

"In my line of work, it's been more foolhardy than anything." John rolled up his sleeves as Pip and Dan accompanied him back down the hill into the heart of the village.

The children were intelligent. They weren't forced to attend classes or prayer seminars, although both were available. Some moved thoughts around with sticks in the mud, bare essentials of fragmented abilities beginning to surface. John leaned down to the level of one boy with a large gap in his front teeth and slightly curly brown hair.

"Hello. And what is your name?"

"Gabriel."

"What are you doing there?"

"Nothing." John recognized the Pythagorean theorem begin struggled through, made with stick and sand.

"How would you like to play a game?"

Gabriel stopped momentarily and looked up at John, his nose wrinkling. "What kind of game?"

"Usually that's not the response I get. Just go get your friends."

"I don't have any friends."

"Well, then, let's make you some." John stood back and yelled to the crowd. "Hey, everybody! Can I have your attention?! My friend Gabriel and I want to invite you all to play a game! Who would like to have some fun?"

A small queue of children began to circle around the pair, all frantically talking and asking questions. John raised his hands up and they began to quiet down.

"Very good. Now, I'd like to play a game called Fruit Basket. Has anyone heard of it?" No one raised his hand. John bit his lip and thought momentarily.

"Okay, so here's what's going to happen. I'm going to divide you into four teams and then we're going to form a circle around Gabriel. He's going to call out a team name and that team is going to have to run to find a different seat. The last person to sit down back in the circle is out. We'll keep doing this until we have a winner. Oh, and if Gabriel calls Fruit Basket, we all move and the next to last person gets to be the new caller."

General nods began to show all around. One little girl of about ten with large glasses, raised her hands. "What should the circumference of the circle be?"

"Let's just make it big." The little girl shrugged.

"Okay, let's see." John began pointing all around. "How about you be an apple, and you can be a pear, we'll have an orange here, and grapes as well. Does everyone know what they are? Oh yes, Gabriel, you can be a grape as well. I'll be an orange."

"What are apples, sir?"

"You can call me, John. And they're fruits. The name of the game is Fruit Baskets after all."

John left the circle ten minutes later, finally out. He was sweating and laughing, the kids could be heard all around the village. Dan and Pip greeted him.

"That was a wonderful thing you did."

"Nah. You just got to let the kids be themselves every once in awhile."

"No, you don't know what you've done for them. For one afternoon, they'll be children. The soldier's aren't closing in on their parents, the sea doesn't seem so far away. You have a touch with them."

"Pip and I have been talking, we want you to stay, if you'd like."

John turned his eyes down momentarily. Two world apart and yet he was asked to stay yet again. He thought of the Earth he'd left, of Tenaya's village, of Atlantis. Where was he wanted, needed the most? The Doctor hadn't come looking for him yet. He wasn't even sure if the Doctor was near the Tardis. But he didn't want to lie to Dan and Pip. They had been wonderful to him. Before he had a chance to answer, a low tone began over Dan's watch. His face drained of color.

"Oh no. Not now." The children began to disappear from sight.

"We have to go, John. They're coming. Weekly raid on the quarry. We'll go out the David method." Pip nodded to Dan and they began walking off, leaving John stunned.

"John!" Dan called back to him. "You don't want them to find you here. Let's go."

John ran to catch up and found himself walking in silence with them far past the boxcar. They came upon a burly man with bright red hair, grease stains running from the bottom of his overalls to his giant gloved hands. "Terry Davis, this is John Tripp."

"Pleasure." The man grunted at John and stuck out his hand. "They'll be raiding here. You'd best go. Taking him?"

Pip nodded as they walked on.

"His name isn't David so what is the David method?"

"Well, David had a thing about motion and he rigged several trains to run back into the old Station hub. They consider it unsafe and we can most likely wait out the raid there."

Dan swung up onto a nearby ladder of a train car first. It looked like one of those old train cars from the movies before John's time. All it needed was a homeless vagabond with a harmonica and it would be complete. Pip grabbed Dan's hand and he pulled her in. They both pulled John into the car and Dan gave a thumbs up to Terry.

There was a jolt as the train began moving quickly. "This is the method?! Seems pretty dangerous." John yelled over the roaring rush of air.

"It's not that dangerous. We'll begin slowing down shortly!"

"What? I don't think I'm that portly."

The train car began to slow down just slightly enough for John to see them as they ascended into the village, now completely devoid of life. One soldier caught his eye, it was the same one who's jaw he thought he had broken. They were nearly two hundred yards away when the car came to an abrupt halt.

Dan peeked his head up and down the track.

"They've pulled the brake light on the track. I'll have to go get it. You'd best give me a hand, Pip."

They were talking to John as they worked, just in case he had to unscrew the lever at some later point down the track. A veil of steam masked the pair of police soldiers descending on the car. John heard the crash before he saw the blank metallic face.

"Identification please."

The car lurched forward abruptly and John braced himself as the soldier was thrown into the wall of the car. He kicked at the man until he fell over the other open side of the car. He heard Dan call for him. His hand flew out of the door as Dan jumped up for it. Just barely did their fingers intertwined and John swung him over the ladder.

"Pip, hurry!"

"I'm trying!" Their was panic in her voice as the second crashed through into the car.

John stood as he heard Dan. "I've got her!"

The police soldier lunged at John and John made a shield with his ring that protected him from the crash of the metallic fist. John gritted his teeth as he heard her breathing coming up the ladder. John imagined her eyes going wide watching him defensively maneuvering and hitting the police soldier.

The track began to weave around a curve and John knocked the soldier to the floor of the car. When he tried to move upward, John's leg came down onto his ribs. The second time, he grabbed for John's leg and threw him over the side of the car. The rush of the moving train and the police soldier over him threw John off-balance and he caught himself tumbling while grabbing hold of the soldier's collar.

The last vision he saw before he went unconscious was of Pip and Dan and their train car rolling into the distance.


	4. Chapter 4

I always imagined peace would come again in the wake of one final disaster. And yet, I was wrong. They strapped me to a dentist chair in the midst of large white room. I was naked, save for the Tardis key around my neck and I struggled. I didn't want peace. I didn't want to think of Dan or Pip, struggling to survive. Tenaya and her brother; I had broke their hearts. I knew the Doctor would send Andie back to them. It wasn't right to keep him cooped up on the Tardis. Andie didn't need me; he loved me. Maybe I'd miss him. There was nothing more I wanted in that second than his dark red fur and the sound of his obnoxious snoring as he slept.

Instead, I gritted my teeth. I knew by his eyes, which were the only visible part of his body. "Harold Saxon", I replied to my murderer. I hissed his name unto the heavens and struggled in my anger.

He looked as though he had worn glasses and the habit of sliding his fingers across his nose, as I had done years before my laser surgery, had stayed with him. His voice spoke with soothing gallantry that seemed to mock me. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

I kept thinking that the Doctor had a knack for rescuing people at just the right time. I had read the reports from Sarah Jane and Barbara left on the Tardis. I knew that at least one had survived and lived somewhat normally. I knew the companions to come would not. I knew war was brewing and this man was involved. I felt my anger surge into my ring; as though its blood vessels were awakened by it.

"You bastard. Look at what you've done."

"What I've done? My dear lad, I make the world safer. I have done nothing. It is your intellectual betters that have betrayed you." He took a moment, pausing near my IV, that glowed with ominous dark blue efficiency, and I watched him cross it. "Intellectual stimulus was not built on fear, but it helps. Especially a politician like myself. Now tell me, Mr..."

"Mr. Tripp."

"Yes. Mr. Tripp. Tell me about this village we found you near. It seems the occupants have a nasty predilection for disappearing into the night. And, after all, people want to be safe. It's in their best interest."

"What do you know about best interests, Mr. Saxon?"

"As the face of Maris Industries, it is my duty and right to know such things."

"And what right have you to the mind?"

He stared into my eyes, blazed with righteous indignation. There was no emotion, just a flinching gaze into a fight he'd not seen in many years. "As the sole owner of Maris Industries, I own the minds of Atlantis. They come to me. And your mind is different from them all."

For the first time, I noticed it in his hand. It was small and silver and made the same sound a remote control made changing channels while hidden in the crevice of a couch. A small black screen projected a rotating image of my brain in white. The synapses fired. I didn't see anything abnormal about it, which was enough for him to claim victory, I suppose.

"Mr. Tripp, where do you come from?"

I smiled wryly. "New Jersey."

Mr. Maris, aka Harold Saxon, just blinked.

"More specifically, the Love Canal. Read your history, Mr. Saxon." I blathered on about various topics related to nuclear poisonings and such. If nothing else, I'd smokescreen us all into hell if need be.

"Are you quite finished, Mr. Tripp?"

"Only just, Harry, old bean."

"Tell me, that's a charming antique around your neck. Where did you acquire it?"

"Gift shop."

He fingered the key and I hissed, making an attempt to bite his fingers off. "It's very pretty."

"Two for ten dollars. It was for my mother."

"Stop lying, Mr. Tripp."

"Fine. You want the truth? The Doctor is here." His face went white. "That's right. And you know what? He'll save me."

"I'm not impressed. I have the best medical staff in all of fourteen Earth ages with me. And they've agreed to a live cadaver."

"So, you'll torture me, then? For what? Information, pride?"

"For pleasure, Mr. Tripp. Your singular mind is unique in our society. For some reason, your creative analyzing abilities even until your breathing structures are unique."

"I was always a bit of an oddity."

"Then we must begin shall we."

"Buster, you're making a bit mistake." I howled for the Doctor and my ring finally took the hint or acquired enough power. The cybernetics did something that to this day baffle everyone. Even the Doctor says nothing. All I know is one thing.

I became the first Cyberman.

No, I'm not talking neat and clean, chrome lines with a toaster tiara Cyberman. I'm talking a dirty skeleton of meshed technological wiring and a singular sawed-off emotional shotgun. I'm talking a metallic grin with human eyes. I'm talking danger to the entire whole of humanity.

It engulfed me, the power of that ring. Whatever salvation Tenaya had offered me doomed the Earth for the first time. The next time it would be doomed like this was London. But I'm carrying away on myself. Of what I remember, the ring walked off my hand, but as they released the bleach into my system, I screamed. I tell you, glowing blue liquids equal ominous things to come.

"Calm down, Mr. Tripp! We're cleaning your insides from all viruses so you may be tagged and rejoin the system!" Liars.

I heard the sounds of the explosion before it occurred. The cybernetics launched themselves into the mainframe of the computer where the scan of my brain was being held. During Harold's long-winded explanation of things, which I didn't relate earlier, he explained about how Atlantis had fallen under his control. Ten times worse than the Black Plague and there was a cleansing. If Lucinda's Children were not "inoculated" then no one would ever rest in Atlantic City. Well, at that moment, inoculation was the worst of their problems.

To be fair, no one heard the explosion as much as they saw it before we razed Atlantis City. The Doctor took me for dead. He came to the rubble and waved his screwdriver about, but found nothing. Turning his collar up, he marched back into the Tardis.

I had this last feeling run through me, like sadness but with some morbid interest. I knew where he was heading. Back to that rain forest where the mothers sang while baking bread and the hunters came and went with meats and offerings to their totem gods. Where Tenaya waited for John Tripp. The man who was dead.

I imagined him standing there with Andie at the doorway of the Tardis, who had no words to speak at this point, and trying to talk the dog into going to find her. He knew this was my last wish, even he would never be that cruel. They'd find Andie and wonder about me, maybe even search. But the Doctor and the Tardis would be gone. I would be gone.

And maybe he'd stop to refuel in London. And there would be a girl waiting for him. Her name would be Rose Tyler and he would change her life forever. But he'd never get salmon and hash from her. I smiled, or tried to, as I picked my way through the rubble of Maris Industries in the post-blaze of demonic blue light and tried to figure out what to do next.


	5. Chapter 5

Several Companions Later, aka the Epilogue

"Welcome to Mirvodich, Donna!"

"And what's so special about this place, then?" Donna looked towards the door with a secondary air of trepidation and eagerness.

"The sun always shines here! Marvelous, rather ingenious power plant, if I do say so myself."

"Why? Did you build it?" She remarked curtly as she opened the door. They stood for a second, stunned. They were indeed in the midst of a giant city, but it was midnight. The air was smoggy and the city seemed desolate. An invisible wind swung all around them.

"Ingenious power plant you said? Looks like someone's gone to the pub instead."

"This doesn't make any sense." The Doctor mumbled under his breath, as was usual when the status quo confused him slightly. "This era on Mirvodich is at the height of its industrial might and strength, all clean burning of course. The power grid never failed."

"What's so special about this power grid of theirs?"

"I...well...it's complicated, all right?"

"You don't know?! Wait a minute. We're on a strange planet with a power outage and a secretive plant you know nothing about. That doesn't smack of holiday to you, does it?"

"No Donna, not quite."

"Well, let's get on with it then. Because if I'm going to be sucked into another dream world then let's be done with it!"

"You could stay in the Tardis if you'd like!"

Donna was already a quarter of a mile ahead of the Doctor when he finally caught up. "There's no need to be angry. Look, we'll head over to the plant, fix whatever is wrong, and then do some shopping. They've got villages full of shops. Armegi, Priva, even some Huego Best for yours truly."

"I knew you were vain! Those suits were too well-tailored."

"Well, a Time Lord has to look his best. Elsewhise, why save the universe?"

They walked in silence until Donna breached the question of exactly where they were going.

"Dunno. I just hoped we'd bump into someone who'd know where the power plant was."

"Bullocks to that. You were looking for Huego Best!"

"I was not...Hello."

A young man with sandy blond hair moved quickly past them from a shadow. He was frantically walking about and possibly had just finished a long-winded narrative to himself. His jeans were tattered and his shoes well worn. His shirt was immaculate and his eyes were swollen red, but not from crying. The Doctor approached him carefully.

"Hello, there, son. Do you know the way to the power plant?"

He looked at the Doctor uncertainly and then swayed on the spot. Donna caught him.

"Hello. My name is Donna. What is yours?"

The boy jumped up, a piece of paper falling from his back pocket and he ran off screaming.

"Well. That was quite unusual. Even for his species. Very polite usually. Make great sales associates, though."

"Doctor..." Donna held the piece of yellow paper in her hands, unfolding it and scanning it quickly, "it's a rock concert."

"Don't suppose you fancy going?"

"Only if it'll explain what in the devil was wrong with that boy."

"Shall we then, Ms. Noble?" The Doctor offered his arm gallantly. And she accepted, biting her tongue on the remarks boiling in her brain.

The amphitheater where the concert was being held was large and well-lit. It was strange, almost like a beacon or the aurora Borealis. There were no seats, only thin rugs over concrete. The gathering was large, bodies stood waiting, mostly shirtless men, possibly early twenties. They were all young and strangely silent. They waited, looking at the stage hopefully.

The Doctor and Donna stood at the edge of the crowd and the Doctor tapped on the shoulder of the man standing in front of him.

"Excuse me, hello, but what kind of music does the Dizzy Lantern Project play exactly?"

"Only the best kind. But only if you have the right ears to listen." The dark-haired man held out his hand, filled with five orange pills. Donna pushed his hand away.

"Don't think we need those, love. Or you, I'd wager."

The young man shrugged and brought the hand to his mouth, swigging a bit of his bottled water along with them.

"Doctor, I don't like this."

"Neither do I. Look over at that shirtless man."

"They're all shirtless, Doctor!"

"But that's the head city engineer, Donna. He's wearing a key around his neck."

"No wonder the lights are out. These kids are all drugged!"

"Yes, I know. But what could have..."

There was a silent cue, and the crowd sat in one large wave. Donna and the Doctor moved farther from the edge of the crowd, the Doctor resting his back against a large stone pillar and trying to think of a way of getting through the crowd to the engineer. He assumed that, in this state, taking the key would be no issue.

Somewhere, music began to play. The keyboard began to swell forth and there was a man on stage. He wore a silver mask and played an upper harmony. The stage was still dark, no spotlight shown on him. His shadow was the only indication that anyone had even arrived.

The drums began next. One set and then another, on either side of the stage. They bounced off of each other and the harmony of the piano. The crashing sound had a tempo that made Donna shiver. But the Doctor did not move, just stood rather transfixed. He was thinking, his fingers moving across his lips.

Two guitars started, one bass and another electric. The orchestra was almost complete, building to something. The drums were in a frenzy, the keyboard humming along on its own. There was something familiar, something frightening, nearly menacing to the tune. The Doctor could not place it, something which disconcerted him immensely.

A light appeared. A small green pinprick, and the students all arose at once. Some swayed and some hummed, but all were virtually silent. Hands moved into other hands. Donna was offered more pills and pushed them away again, with a slightly nervous smile. The green point began to grow and swirl. Four lasers moved and intertwined in circles. The sound of mechanical gears assaulted the Doctor. His shadow lifted onto the stage.

_No one's gonna take me alive_

_The time has come to make things right_

_You and I must fight for our right_

_You and I must fight to survive_

His voice was somewhat high-pitched, but not unpleasant. It held this calming quality that off-set the ravaging pounding of the drums and the bass guitar. A few of the more outspoken audience began to jump in rhythm to the beat. There was still no light. He just stood there. He was a man, slim, with long hair, wearing some sort of coat. Donna watched the Doctor squint in his direction.

_No one's gonna take me alive_

_The time has come to make things right_

_You and I must fight for our right_

_You and I must fight to survive_

The other members of the band began to harmonize with him, singing as one. Some in the crowd were moaning and others were chanting. The darkness was lifted all at once. The Doctor staggered backwards, gripping the column and shaking his head. His face began to turn very white and he muttered beneath his breath. It was very clear that he was afraid.

"Doctor, what is it?"

The red hair flashed in the spotlight. He was wearing a dark coat with trim made of different flowers. His jeans were tattered and his combat boots scuffed. He was bare-chested, save for four concentric metal rings where his heart and lungs probably should have been. Half of his face seemed to be made metal. But he crooned the microphone as if he were human. His eyes never met the Doctor.

"John Tripp. Come on." The Doctor took Donna's hand and they made their way around the outcropping of his followers as the show continued. He quoted someone who believed censorship was the opium of the masses. He quoted Marx and then Bishop TD Jakes. His followers listened, enraptured. He brought two very leggy blondes forward from the audience and set them as back-up. They cried as if on cue when he hugged them.

The Doctor stopped and offered Donna a hand as she climbed up the stairs to the backstage. There was no security to stop them. The Doctor's face was set on John momentarily. His heart swelled with anger, pity, curiosity, and an absent dread. This was clearly not right. John brought up a young man to the stage and they talked for a few moments until he was invited back to the dressing room. He blushed and there were plenty of whistles as he shook his head in affirmation. John lead him away.

"This is our chance."

"Our chance for what?"

"To catch him."

"Doctor, who is he?"

"John Tripp."

"That bloody well tells me nothing." The Doctor stopped mid-step and looked at Donna with a tone of unexpected sincerity.

"He's the reason I had to stop to refuel in London. He's the reason I met Rose. He traveled with me once and I thought he was dead."

"Oh."

The Doctor pounded at his dressing room door backstage, releasing his fury into it. He had so many questions, each more upsetting than the last. There were definite sounds coming from behind the door, but there was no pretense of anyone actually coming to open it.

"John! Open the door! It's the Doctor!"

"I'll only be a moment!" The breathing was staggered as John answered from inside.

"Oh, bloody hell. I'm not waiting around for your brand of tact." Donna issued an order in a much louder voice. "Young man, you open this door and tell us what you've done to this city or I will break it down."

There was a series of groans from inside the door and then John answered that he would in fact open the door. The Doctor's lip curled as he heard the sound of zipping jeans and the the door swung open unceremoniously. The young man from the stage earlier was sitting on the couch and sweating. Various pills lay scattered about different surfaces, but the room had a feeling of immaculate cleaning.

John perched himself on his vanity desk and crossed his legs. "What can I do for you, Doctor?"

"You can tell me how you survived Atlantis. I had no readings from my screwdriver. None whatsoever."

"I didn't survive."

Donna stood at the doorway, just behind the Doctor. "But you are bloody well standing here in front of us, aren't you?! That's quite a trick then!"

John rolled his eyes and then looked toward the young man with dark hair on the couch. "You'd best go, Robert. I'll give you a ring tomorrow."

The young man grunted and John helped him toward the door. He began to stumble as he walked, but maintained his balance with the help of the wall.

"What have you done to this city?!"

"Would you relax, Doctor? I haven't done anything but given the people of this very stressed planet exactly what they need. A holiday."

"A soma induced holiday?!"

"Correct. As always. Well, almost always. So, you're the new companion, then? And what's your name?"

"Donna Noble."

"Well, Ms. Noble. Would you like to know a secret?" John folded his arms and stared at her. She shook her head. "Have him take you home. This man is nothing but trouble. He got me enslaved and killed all in the same week."

"It's not my fault you couldn't keep up with my running."

"No. I suppose you are right." John sighed. "So, let me guess, you think some thing's gone wrong here because it's not like when you last left it."

"What else should we think?!"

"That maybe you, dear Doctor, need to lighten up." John proceeded to light something that looked like a cigarette.

"What happened to you?"

"I crawled out of the wreckage of Maris Industries, Doctor, and watched you leave after approximately five seconds of waving that screwdriver of yours around. And then I waited. I waited for the Earth to rebuild itself and then I left."

"But how?" John just smiled. "The only way you could have left is if you...oh my God." The Doctor's face fell and his eyes grew wide.

"That's right. This silver isn't a mask. The drawback of Tenaya's ring is that it fused with me. I'm made of Cyber metal. It keeps me alive."

"It's changing you, isn't it?"

"Maybe this is how I always was."

"But...this place...all these people..."

"Have been keeping me alive! I came here and all these men were stressed out and all the women were so bloody complacent. Never think for yourself, never a moment alone. It's always help him or her. You should have seen the cigarette plant before I got here. I saved this place. Without you, might I add."

"You didn't save anything!"

John strolled up to the Doctor's face. "Prove it."

"This is all the proof I need." The Doctor held the sonic screwdriver up to John's chest and John backed away.

"Are you going to unscrew me, Doctor? Go ahead and try it. An explosion that destroyed an entire city couldn't destroy me." His eyes were blank, slightly amused.

"I will."

"Then stop talking about here. Here! I'll make it easier for you." John raised his arms above his head, exposing the core of metal where his heart once was. "Fire, Doctor, I dare you."

The Doctor gulped and did just that. At first, there seemed to be no reaction. John stood there, frozen, his face unchanging and unreadable. But then he fell and began gasping for breath. The Doctor moved to his side.

"I'm sorry, John. If I'd only known. I'm so sorry." Donna stood at the door, mouth agape but barely breathing. The Doctor's face fell deep and sad.

"Doctor?" John's voice changed from confident to very scared. "Doctor, you found me. You saved me again. I wasn't much trouble, was I? All that wreckage to comb through..." He clamped onto the Doctor's arm lying over his chest gratefully.

"No, no trouble at all." The Doctor gave a half-hearted smile.

"Why, why am I so cold, Doctor? I, this place..." John turned his head. "This looks like a dressing room, Doctor. What, what have I done?"

"Nothing. You've done nothing wrong."

"You're lying."

"You may have drugged an entire planet." The Doctor winced as he said it.

"Oh, fabulous." John sighed. "Then I'm a threat to you now." The words hung limply in the air, a final statement, a pronouncement.

"No, none at all. I fixed you. I used the screwdriver." The Doctor smiled weakly and John smiled back.

"Then finish the job."

"You can't ask me to do that."

"Doctor, I'm a half Cyber. I'm a threat to you. I can't...I don't want to be..."

"No, no. We don't start crying now. Because you bloody start and then I'll bloody start..."

John began to laugh at the thought, his breath struggling. "I think my internal systems are failing."

"I can fix you."

"I don't want to be fixed. Just look at me." The Doctor didn't give him a second glance.

"I am looking."

"Andie and I found your war room, Doctor. I always knew you were sentimental."

"What do you mean?" John just smiled, remembering the graveyard, knowing that maybe a part of him could end up there, among the assistants and generals.

"Never mind. Just...did Tenaya take it well?"

"She doesn't know. I released Andie back without you and then left again."

"Coward...just joking." John closed his eyes momentarily. "Finish the job, Doctor. I'm no used to anyone now."

"Don't say that!"

"But it's true. Just look at me!"

"We'll get you back to the Tardis. We'll send you to Jack at Torchwood! He can fix you!"

"He can study me, you mean! Until some terrorist group finds me and abuses me, brainwashes me?! Finish the job, Doctor! I don't want to be a threat to you! You've got so much more to worry about!"

"What, what do I have to worry about that's more important than you?"

"Rose."

"Rose?!"

John reached for the screwdriver and it magnetized to his skin. The Doctor's hand moved away as if John was burning. In a moment, the room turned various shades of white and yellow. The Doctor put his arm over his eyes to shield them and turned away slightly. He looked back and John was gone.

"What do you mean, Rose?!"

"What happened, Doctor?"

He stood and looked toward Donna. "I, I don't know. But I'd suggest we leave. The next few days on this planet aren't going to be pleasant with them detoxifying."

"But what about John?"

"We'll...we'll meet again, maybe. I don't know what my screwdriver did, but he's not a threat."

"He drugged an entire planet!"

"He's not a threat."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm the Doctor. I'm always right."


End file.
